The violence. The transgressive beauty.When one looked up and saw her, she knew it was him. She stripped. She told him to make her his. Moments later,...bloody claws held her down. A bloody maw surrounded her neck and bit. A thick cock got thicker inside her. Everything felt too painful to endure. But she endured. She didn’t scream. And as quickly as the attack, everything changed. Pain became bliss, as if she had been flooded by morphine, except the drug didn’t mask feeling, it accentuated. Actually, they. A boy about fourteen and his father. I motioned them into my office and asked if they would like coffee or chocolate or tea or a soft drink. The dad took coffee with sugar and his son, after getting approval from his father, opted for the hot chocolate. Once we had our drinks, we settled in and I asked how I could help them. They fidgeted a bit, the boy looking at his father.“Son, it’s okay. He won’t judge. You just have to tell him what’s happening or he can’t help.” The boy. More

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